


Let's Be Alone Together

by witchcraft97



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:53:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchcraft97/pseuds/witchcraft97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't know where you're going but do you got room for one more troubled soul?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Be Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

> I just missed the optimum time of year to post this, but if I don't post it now I'll have to wait a whole year so here it goes. I hope you can dredge up enough autumn spirit to enjoy this anyway!

Autumn happened very suddenly overnight. One day Marik and Bakura were sweltering in their “secret hideout” (aka. Marik’s house), and the next they awoke to a distinct chill in the air, the green leaves falling and turning yellow. Bakura disliked autumn. Egyptian by blood, he was always most at home in the fiery heat of summer. The autumn, whose coolness heralded the coming freeze of winter, offended him deeply. Especially when it crept up on him like this one had.

Marik, unlike his fluffy white haired companion, loved autumn. He loved sweaters and pumpkins and scarves, and his own Egyptian heritage didn’t stop him throwing himself into every autumn themed activity he could find. Consequently when he awoke that morning to leaves drifting softly passed his bedroom window and goose bumps on his skin, he almost combusted with joy.

"Bakura…Bakura wake up! It’s autumn!" Marik burst into Bakura’s room and leapt onto his bed, bouncing up and down.

"Marik," Bakura growled from under the covers, "get the buggering hell off me."

"Bakura," the blonde whined, not moving, "I want to go for a walk. You have to get up so we can go for a walk."

"I’m not going for a bloody walk," Bakura extricated his head from the duvet to glare at Marik above him, "it’s cold and I’m sleeping in. Get out."

Marik pouted, violet eyes flashing. Bakura met his gaze with a stony stare.

~

"Bakura come on, let’s go." Marik hovered impatiently next to his motorbike, his own helmet buckled and holding a second ready for Bakura.

The aforementioned thief yawned widely, locking the front door. How had he let himself get talked into this? He vaguely remembered a tussle with the duvet, a brief wrestling match, and then Marik had somehow ended up on top of him again forcing him into jeans and a flannel shirt. Bakura sighed and shivered as a stiff breeze ruffled his hair. He hated autumn.

Marik dropped the helmet onto Bakura’s head, the rough sleeves of his sweater brushing Bakura’s cheeks, before turning to straddle his bike. He revved the engine as Bakura climbed on behind him, not bothering to hide his smile as Bakura’s hands settled on his waist.

"If I catch a cold I’m going to murder you." Bakura muttered. Marik just laughed as they peeled onto the road.

~

They drove 20 minutes outside of the city. Bakura was lost as soon as they cleared the outskirts, but Marik evidently knew where he was going. He turned off the main road onto a smaller one, and then turned onto a smaller road again. Trees hugged the winding asphalt and houses were few and far between, the majority only momentarily visible through the foliage as they flew by. Autumn was in full swing out here in the middle of nowhere. Everything seemed to be in shades of red and gold.

Eventually Marik slowed, easing the bike off the road and into a set back dirt clearing surrounded by trees. He parked, knocking down the kickstand and turning off the engine. The moment the growl of the bike died away they were enveloped in quiet. The only noises were the gentle rustle of the boughs and soft birdsong, high in the canopy.

Bakura leaned back, releasing his grip on the boy in front of him, and looked around. “Where are we?” he asked, briefly forgetting to be grumpy.

“Odion used to bring me here,” Marik replied as they dismounted and pulled off their helmets, “When my dark side was getting too much for me. We’d walk and talk, and for a while it was enough to keep _him_ at bay…”

He trailed off, gazing absently into the tree line.

“Until it wasn’t.” Bakura finished quietly for him.

Marik’s mouth pursed into a thin line, then he turned and his face split into a goofy grin again, eyes glittering.

“Bakura I want to go this way,” Marik grabbed Bakura’s wrist and dragged him forward, “there’s an amazing trail just through here and I want to go on a really long hike.”

Bakura groaned as Marik prattled, bad temper returning. He yanked his hand back from Marik’s grip and crossed his arms irritably, following the boy into the trees. They’d just have to get this over with as quickly as possible and then he could go home and back to bed.

~

They indeed came upon a narrow trail a short distance into the wood, whose brown dirt path was strewn with orange and yellow leaves. Marik set off down it at a determined pace, chattering absently as they walked. Although the forest wasn’t warm, it was protected from the worst of the wind and after a while Bakura relaxed slightly. Sunlight filtered through the trees and every so often a stray leaf would fall around them. Between the trunks and off the path the ground was softer. Banks of fallen leaves built up against the larger trees, and brambles and weeds crisscrossed the ground between them. Birdsong and Marik’s bright voice continued to be the only sounds.

Bakura settled into his own comfortable silence, letting this all wash over him. He was quite used to Marik talking _at_ him, found it disgustingly familiar in fact, and as they walked side-by-side soon even he had to admit, this could indeed be considered peaceful.

“Bakura…Bakura look!” Marik suddenly broke off mid-sentence and dashed off the path.

Startled, Bakura could only stare after him, “Marik what…?”

A moment later the blonde thief reappeared carrying a thick stick about a metre in length. He brandished it like a sword. Bakura could only look on in bewilderment as Marik spun in front of him, parrying and lunging. He then took off down the path at a run, laughing, dragging the stick through the leaves at his feet. They flew up in a flurry behind him, leaving a trail of reds and oranges in his wake.

Bakura, faced with the choice of follow or be left behind, broke into a jog. The leaves Marik disturbed fluttered around him, his heart beating hard in his chest as he exerted himself.

“Wait Marik… _wait!_ ” Bakura called, stumbling slightly on the uneven ground.

Obediently Marik slowed to a halt ahead of him, turning around with a face full of breathless joy. His eyes were alight and above him a single ray of sunshine broke through the trees, making his hair gleam gold.

Bakura stopped a few metres from him, stunned into stillness.

“’Kura?” Marik queried, smiling back at him.

Normally when Marik used a nickname Bakura would go off on one, hating everything about how cutesy it sounded, but this time he didn’t really hear it. He was too busy trying to regain the breath the cold autumn air had stolen from his lungs, too busy trying to slow his pounding heart.

Snapping out of it, Bakura strode the final few steps towards Marik. “You’re such a child sometimes, do you know that?” he scowled, snatching the stick from Marik’s hand.

Marik’s face immediately fell into a pout, “Lighten up Bakura, it’s called _having fun_ , you should try it sometime.”

“I’ll have fun when I’m dead.” Bakura muttered, tossing the stick back into the woods.

“Technically you already _are_ dead –”

“Shut up.”

~

They walked on, more subdued. Marik was quiet now, having apparently taken Bakura at his word, and he’d withdrawn his hands into the sleeves of his sweater. Bakura stared at his feet, if possible even more grumpy. The sun had gone behind a cloud, causing the temperature to drop a few degrees, and an aura of general chilly gloom settled over them. Somewhere close by a wood pigeon cooed.

“That sounds like an owl.” Bakura looked up, confused.

Marik giggled a little, “That’s a wood pigeon.”

“Oh.” Bakura coloured, which unfortunately for him was very obvious on his very pale skin, “Do you know a lot of birds?”

Marik gave Bakura an odd sideways look, surprised he had broken the silence like this. Bakura himself wasn’t all that sure what had come over him. He definitely didn’t feel guilty that his previous temper had dampened Marik’s high spirits.

“Some.” Marik shrugged elegantly, “Not as many as Odion. He used to point out the different bird calls to me when we came here. I can still recognise a few.”

Marik paused to listen, slowing so even the path didn’t crunch as loudly under their feet. Bakura slowed too, watching his face. A high sweet whistle was audible through the trees. It trilled and quavered, starting and stopping in short bursts.

“That’s a blackbird.” Marik said softly. He turned in a slow circle, craning his neck, “There!”

He pointed upwards and Bakura looked. Sure enough a blackbird sat in the lower branches of a tree off to their left, feathers fluffed up, singing his song. They watched as the blackbird suddenly took off, flying over their heads across the path and disappearing into the trees on the other side.

Bakura dropped his eyes again to look at Marik, and was only mildly surprised to find Marik gazing back. Violet eyes met warm brown.

They broke off with sheepish smiles and resumed normal walking pace. The clouds also chose that moment to finally break again, flooding the wood with sun.

~

A short while later the path split ahead of them. One fork continued basically straight and seemed to be the intended route for walkers to take. The other twisted off into the trees and looked less well kept, with branches encroaching into either side of the trail. Marik hesitated as they approached.

“Marik?” Bakura asked. Even though most of his temper had melted away with the clouds, he still wouldn’t say he was enjoying this walk and getting lost at this point was very far down his list of priorities.

Marik looked nervous for a moment, then, appearing to steel himself, said “Bakura I want to show you something.”

Bakura was immediately apprehensive. He looked even more wary when Marik took the narrow, winding trail. Cautiously, he followed.

“Show me what?”

“A couple of times I came up here on my own, without Odion.” He walked in front so Bakura couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t need to to hear the quaver in Marik’s voice. “When…when _he_ wouldn’t stop talking to me, and I was so desperate for him to leave me alone, I’d just come and walk around in the woods. As if being physically on my own would help.”

He paused and Bakura wondered if he should say something. It was darker down this winding trail, the leaves thick under their feet, silencing their steps. Bare branches snagged at their clothes. Before Bakura could make up his mind, Marik gave a short bark of a laugh and continued.

“It never worked. He would just keep whispering in my ear, telling me how useless I was on my own and how he was going to help me. How together we’d punish them all, kill the ones that stood in our way…”

Bakura’s mouth was dry now. He could only stare at the back of Marik’s head and stumble after him. They never spoke about their pasts, it was like an unwritten pact between them. They’d bicker and plot and occasionally fuck, but things never got personal. They never thought too hard about their relationship or did any of that emotional nonsense. Why was Marik telling him this?

Marik was still talking. “Anyway, I found myself up here once and I was just walking and I got lost. The next thing I knew I was standing in…well, you’ll see. It’s just round here.”

They rounded a corner, and all at once the forest fell away from them. Marik dropped back to bring himself level with Bakura and side-by-side they emerged into the most perfect meadow Bakura had ever seen.

It was large, but not so big that Bakura couldn’t follow the trees all the way around the outside with his eyes. The complete enclosure gave a blissful sense of privacy. Coarse, dry grass rippled in the breeze and almost exactly in the centre of the field grew a thick, knarled oak tree. Its boughs bent over, creating a shady cave around the trunk.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Marik murmured, and Bakura realised he had been staring around with his mouth open. He quickly shut it and glanced at Marik, but the blonde thief was miles away, violet eyes unfocused.

“He never bothered me here. As soon as I left he’d be in my head again, but this place was safe and it was mine.” Marik blinked suddenly and looked nervously at Bakura, as if he’d just remembered he was there, “I just…wanted you to see it.”

Bakura took a deep breath, trying to absorb everything at once. The red, yellow, and gold of the tree line, the dry green grass, the grandfather oak, and high above them, the blue blue sky. Without really thinking about it and before he could change his mind, he reached out and found Marik’s hand. He kept his gaze fixed on the autumn forest as he laced their fingers together, tan and white.

Marik blushed violently but returned Bakura’s strong grip. Together they walked out into the meadow.

~

They’d done a complete circuit of the field, hand in hand, before Marik spoke again.

“I thought this might weird you out.” He said.

Bakura quirked an eyebrow, “Marik I’ve seen nightmares made flesh, my spirit was bound to an ancient evil God with a dragon for a penis…I think I can handle a _meadow._ ”

Marik cackled, the first sign of his usual bubbly personality since they’d left the main path, then he quietened and lightly squeezed Bakura’s hand. “You know what I mean.”

Bakura did know, but he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to think about exactly what that meant just yet. Instead he abruptly changed direction, tugging Marik towards the oak tree in the middle of the field.

“Odd place for a tree.” Bakura mused out loud.

“Yeah.” Marik agreed, then he looked thoughtful, “Hey I wonder if…”

He pulled his hand out of Bakura’s, jogging ahead to the oak. By the time Bakura joined him in the thick shade Marik was on his hands and knees, sifting through the twigs and debris at the base of the trunk.

“Lost something?” Bakura asked, a note of amusement in his voice.

“Piss off.” Marik growled, but Bakura knew him well enough to know he didn’t mean it. Suddenly Marik turned, a gleam of triumph in his eyes, “Here, Bakura look.”

Bakura peered over his shoulder; sticking up out of the ground was a stubby, knarled root. It clearly belonged to the old oak. Carved deep into the wood was a weathered letter ‘M’.

“I did that, with the Millennium Rod, the first time I found this place.” Marik traced the letter with his fingertips, getting lost in the memory, “Now we’re both _scarred_ forever, the tree and me.”

Bakura didn’t like the way his chest tightened at the thickness in Marik’s voice, and he definitely didn’t like the way Marik spat out the word ‘scarred’. He looked at the ground, casting for something to say, and his eyes fell on the abundance of acorns that littered the grass around them. Quietly he retreated a few paces, scooping up a handful as he went.

“Do you have something sharp? Maybe we can add your initial here Bakura…Bakura?” Marik looked up, abruptly aware that Bakura was no longer standing behind him. He began to turn around when…

_POP_

The acorn hit him on the side of the head.

“Hey!” he stood up, hand grasping his head where he had been hit, “What was that for?!”

Bakura shrugged at him and smirked, hip cocked. He tossed an acorn up and down in one hand.

“You better not do that again Bakura or I swear I’ll –“

_POP_

This one hit him in the chest. Marik seemed to puff up like an indignant balloon while Bakura just sniggered.

“That’s it, Bakura you’re dead!” Marik lunged for him and Bakura dodged away, cackling madly.

Marik picked up ammunition of his own and began throwing as Bakura ran. Soon they were chasing each other hell for leather around the tree, laughing, acorns flying.

Bakura threw a handful of nuts over his shoulder, which Marik batted away before skidding sideways to cut Bakura off as they rounded the trunk. Bakura tried to leap off to one side, but failed, and Marik rugby tackled him with a wild yell of victory.

They tumbled together in a heap in the grass, rolling over and over, until finally they came to rest with Bakura laying on his back and Marik on top of him. Marik’s knees settled naturally either side of Bakura’s legs, their chests pressed flush together. Breathless, they panted softly, eyes full of mirth locked together.

Their faces were very close, so close that Bakura could feel each one of Marik’s warm breaths against his skin. His vision had narrowed to just the violet gaze holding his; beautiful, familiar eyes framed by wind-ruffled blonde bangs. Marik was heavy and solid and he fucking _fit_ so perfectly against him…how had he not noticed that before? Bakura raised his head just as Marik bent his down, pressing their lips together.

Something dizzying that Bakura had never felt before burned in his chest and he let his hands go to Marik’s waist, holding him in place on top him. He felt Marik’s smile into their kiss, moving his lips softly against Bakura’s own, fingertips delicately brushing Bakura’s cheeks.

It was a surprisingly gentle thing, considering both men’s violent pasts, almost more of a question than an answer.

_Can we do this? Can we feel this now?_

_Isn’t this how we’ve always felt, really?_

They’d kissed before, they’d had sex before, but this was different and this was _wonderful_. Marik sighed, lips slightly parted now, as he allowed Bakura’s tongue to sweep just once, tenderly, against his. After another brief moment they parted without any coaxing, neither wanting to push too far, but not before Bakura craned his neck upwards to steal one more chaste kiss as Marik pulled away.

“’Kura,” Marik purred, the way his kiss-bruised lips wrapped around the nickname sending a shiver down Bakura’s spine, “don’t tell me you’re becoming all sentimental.”

“Piss off you buggering wanker.” Bakura murmured, making Marik’s eyes sparkle with laughter, which made Bakura himself smile lazily in turn. Marik delicately picked a stray leaf out of Bakura’s hair.

The sun was warm as they lay in the grass, neither very inclined to move. Enclosed by trees and under the gaze of the old oak, Bakura felt like he understood why Marik had sought this place out when fighting his dark side, and why he had brought Bakura here today…Bakura had never felt so safe in his entire life.

“We should go,” Marik said, finally stopping his absent caressing of Bakura’s hair and cheeks and slowly sitting up, “we still have to walk all the way back to the bike.”

“Mmm.” Bakura agreed vaguely, blinking in surprise at the pang of loss of Marik’s warmth and weight from him. He soon shook it off though as Marik stood, offering a hand to help him up. Bakura took it, allowing Marik to pull him to his feet, and also took the opportunity to lace their fingers together again. He didn’t miss the pleased look that slid across Marik’s face.

They turned their backs on the grandfather oak, heading for the narrow gap in the trees that would take them to the path again.

“Hey Bakura?” Marik squeezed Bakura’s hand. A strong breeze tugged at their hair and made the trees whisper.

“Hmm?”

_POP_

Bakura looked, startled, at the acorn that Marik had just thrown at him with his free hand.

“Race you back to the bike.” Marik grinned. Then he took off, hand slipping from Bakura’s, flying towards the edge of the meadow.

“Marik…you…get back here! Wait!”

Bakura sighed and shook his head in a resigned sort of way, then tore after him with a devilish smirk on his face, “You’re on Ishtar!”

Marik’s delighted laughter echoed against the blue sky.

~

Much later that day Bakura lay in bed, warm and comfortable and finally happy that he had gotten his wish and was out of the cold. Marik was stretched out beside him, head on his chest and one arm across his waist. Absently Bakura stroked Marik’s hair, gently carding his fingers through the soft blonde strands. Marik’s breathing was slow and even and Bakura suspected he was asleep. Who could blame him? After their long walk and their subsequent…activities when they’d got home, it was no wonder he was tired out.

Bakura deliberately ignored the bubbling warmth in his chest as Marik sighed and cuddled closer to him. It was a big change, they’d never been so intimate before, and he still wasn’t sure he was ready to think about exactly what they were now. But there would be time for that later. Maybe after Marik woke and they’d had something to eat and watched a movie, if Bakura didn’t get distracted by the need to kiss him into oblivion again first. Yes, Bakura smiled as he looked down at the top of Marik’s head, things had definitely changed.

But change was what autumn was supposed to be about wasn’t it? Well then…maybe autumn wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
